


Bad Day

by wheel_pen



Series: Alice [2]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Naughtiness, all-dialog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 14:15:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In one very bad day, Clark gets into an argument with everyone he cares about (and a couple he could do without). And at the end, he talks to someone who seems to understand him better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Alice, my original female character, is new in Smallville. There is something special about her, and she and Clark form a relationship.
> 
> 2\. This series starts after the end of the second season—after the destruction of the spaceship and Clark abruptly leaving town.
> 
> 3\. Underage warning: This story may contain human or human-like teenagers, in high school, in sexual situations.
> 
> 4\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

_~mid-July before junior year—he’s been home and around for maybe six weeks_

            “Clark, I thought I told you _three days ago_ to get started on fixing the east fenceline!”

            “Sorry, Dad, I’ve just been busy—“

            “Busy goofing around with your friends, busy hanging out at Lex’s house—“

            “Dad, what’s the big deal? I’ll go do it now, it’ll take me like fifteen minutes.”

            “Oh no you don’t, come back here. In case you’ve forgotten, that fence borders the Johnsons’ property, and Paul Johnson will certainly be out in his field right now. So no speeding through it.”

            “Dad! Fifteen minutes! I’ll make sure he’s gone inside before I do anything.”

            “So what, he comes back out after a half-hour break and finds the entire fenceline repaired? How are we going to explain _that_? Tell him we had a small army working on it?”

            “He probably won’t even notice!”

            “But _what_ if he does? _Think_ , Clark. I’m sure the Johnsons have noticed a few _unusual_ occurrences around here over the years—they’ve never given us any problems about it, but it doesn’t hurt to be _careful_.”

            “If I work on that fence at normal speed, it’ll take me _hours_.”

            “More like _days_ , because you’ll only be able to do a couple hours’ worth at a time, before you get ‘tired’ and move on to something else.”

            “ _Days_?”

            “Which is why I asked you to get started on it _three days ago_.”

            “Fine. I’ll go work on it for an hour.”

            “And remember not to make it look _too_ easy.”

            “No, of course not.”

            “And when you’re done with the fence, the roof to the stable needs mending again, the vegetable garden should be weeded, and then you can mow the front lawn.”

            “And you’ll be doing... _what_?”

            Pause. “ _Other chores_ , Clark. A farm takes a lot of work, in case you hadn’t noticed over the past seventeen years.”

            “Fourteen years!”

            “What?”

            “Fourteen years, not seventeen!”

            “Oh... fourteen then.” Pause. “Look, Clark, I know you have a lot of catching up to do with your friends, but—“

            “Dad, I have to get started on that fence now.”

           

            “Mom? Is that you down there?”

            “Oh, um, yes, Clark, I’ll be up in a minute.”

            “Are you okay? You sound a little—“

            “No, I’m fine, it’s just a little dusty. No, no, don’t come down here, you’ll just get filthy—“

            “I’m already filthy, I’ve been out weeding the garden. What are you doing down here, anyway?”

            “Oh, I’m just putting some old things away. Actually, I’m done now, let’s go back upstairs and I’ll fix you a snack—Clark—“

            “Did you make this?”

            “Yes, I did.”

            “Green... That works for either a boy or a girl.”

            “Clark, honey...”

            “Did you make _all_ of these?”

            “No, no, just a few. Your grandmother and aunts sent me most of them.”

            “Well... nothing says ‘early childhood trauma’ like a wardrobe from the ‘70’s.”

            “Clark, honey, you know that we don’t blame—“

            “I’ve never met my grandmother, have I? I don’t remember any aunts, either.”

            “No, that’s-that’s right, Clark, you’ve never met them.”

            “Because when I was younger I couldn’t control my abilities. You didn’t know what they might see.”

            “Well, yes, I guess you could—“

            “How about _now_? I don’t usually crush people on accident or speed away in front of them _now_. Usually.”

            “Well, Clark, it’s just—after a few years have gone by, with one excuse and then another why we can’t visit, people just...”

            “Assume you don’t _want_ to see them.”

            “People grow apart.”

            “They get _wedged_ apart, you mean.”

            “Clark, that’s _not_ what I mean.”

            “So if you’d adopted any other kid—a _normal_ kid—you _still_ wouldn’t have seen your mom or sisters for years?”

            “Actually, they’re my sisters-in-law—“

            “You see? I didn’t even know that!”

            “Clark, you have given your father and I _so much more_ than—“

            “Than what? Than the _entire rest_ of your family? Than a baby of your _own_? It’s not like I _replaced_ something you’d lost anyway, Mom. I pushed _everything else_ out of the way. Destroyed it.”

            “Clark Jerome Kent, that is absolutely _not_ —“

            “I’m going to take a shower and go into town. Tell Dad I’ll be back later to finish my work.”

            “Clark—Clark!”

 

            “Clark, my man! What’s up?”

            “Hey, Pete. Nothing much. Just—taking a break from the farm.”

            “I’m surprised there’s anything left to _do_ around there, man, now that you’re back! You must just _whiz_ through all those chores in about five minutes flat.”

            “Well, not really—some things I can speed through, but anything with the animals I have to slow down, and I have to be careful that no one sees me—“

            “Yeah, that s—ks, man. Hey, you wanna stop by my house for a minute?”

            “Yeah, sure. Hey, did you get _Space Warriors 5_ yet?”

            “Uh, well, yeah, actually, but I don’t have time to play it right now... You see, my innocent farmboy friend, your good pal Pete Ross scored a hot ‘n’ heavy date with one Tricia Walters last night.”

            “Tricia Walters... Isn’t she on the cheerleading squad?”

            “Top of the pyramid, man. Anyway, I’m supposed to meet her pretty soon for a little—heh heh—‘walk through the woods.’”

            “Oh. Why do you want me to come to your house, then?”

            “Well, you see, last night, during the, ah—“

            “Mm-hm.”

            “—she kinda dropped her necklace somewhere. I promised I’d give it back to her today. I thought you could pop over and do your little x-ray thing, find it faster.”

            Pause. “Um, actually, Pete, the thing is I’ve kind of got this headache today...”

            “Headache?”

            “Yeah, it’s kind of weird, I don’t think I should use my x-ray vision for a little while—“

            “Whoa, you’re not gonna, like, spontaneously combust or start spitting acid or something like that, are you?!”

            “Well, I don’t _think_ so, Pete—“

            “Because _usually_ when you get a headache it means you’re about to develop some freaky new power—sprout feathers or a tail or something...”

            “Pete, I _don’t_ think that’s going to—“

            “You’ve been kinda moody the last few days, maybe it’s some kind of... alien PMS?”

            “Pete, I just—“

            “Well, anyway, I’d better go look for that necklace, so I’ll catch you later, Clark.”

            “I could come and _help_ you look, just, you know, _looking_ —“

            “No, that’s okay, Clark. It couldn’t have gone too far, right? Maybe you should go home and... rest or something. Something.”

            “Yeah, thanks, Pete. Maybe I will.”

 

            “Hey, Lana, the Talon looks _great_. What’s the occas—Oh.”

            “I take it that ‘oh’ means you are just _now_ remembering that you promised to be here this morning to help me decorate for David’s party?”

            “Yeah... um, sorry about that, I kind of got into an argument with my dad this morning and forgot all about it. Here, let me get that for you—“

            “No, it’s fine, Clark. I did all the others, so I can do this one, too.”

            Pause. “Well, um, it looks _really_ nice—“

            “Clark, if you didn’t want to help me decorate, you should have just _said_ so. I would have understood.”

            “Lana, I said I just forgot, I got distracted this morning by the argu—“

            “I mean, I _know_ you don’t really like David. I don’t know _why_ , but I thought _maybe_ your offer to help me meant you were _starting_ to become friends with him—“

            “Wait, wait a minute, what do you mean, I don’t like him?”

            “Come on, Clark, you’re _pretty bad_ at hiding your feelings. It’s been _obvious_ from the minute you met David that you had something _against_ him.”

            “Lana, I don’t—“

            “We aren’t _dating_ , you know.”

            “Well, I didn’t think you and David were—“

            “No, I mean _you and I_ aren’t dating, Clark. So whatever your... _feelings_ for me—which I might add, are really pretty confusing to me after how you’ve been treating me lately—you have _no_ right to be jealous.”

            “Wha—I—Lana, I don’t even know where to—I’m not... _jealous_.”

            “No? Then maybe you have another reason why you’ve been _barely civil_ to David every time you’ve seen him?”

            “I just—I just don’t _get_ him.”

            “You don’t _get_ him.”

            “No, I mean—he’s just—he’s kind of... _bossy_ sometimes, don’t you think?”

            “ _Bossy_?”

            “Yeah, like, um—like when he was giving you advice on making a cappuccino the other day. I mean, you own a _coffee shop_. Don’t you think that’s a little... arrogant of him?”

            “So now he’s arrogant?”

            “Lana—“

            “He was just being _helpful_ , Clark. David _likes_ helping people. He likes helping his _friends_.”

            “Yeah, he’s _helpful_ , alright...”

            “What was that?”

            “He just—he’s always just inviting himself to whatever the rest of us are doing, even though we barely know him—“

            “ _We_ have known him for three months, Clark. I’ve seen him practically every day of that. What, do you think he’s like a meteor freak or something?”

            “Well, no—“

            “Because I certainly haven’t noticed him doing anything especially freakish, and anyway he hasn’t been at _all_ threatening, so you can’t say you’re just _worried_ about me.”

            “I... didn’t say that, Lana, I just said that—I mean, every time I just want to hang out a little bit with you and Chloe and Pete, there’s David, all the time, right there, correcting me or giving me advice I didn’t want or sitting in _my_ spot—“

            “That’s it, isn’t it?”

            “What?”

            “He’s sitting in _your_ spot.”

            “Well, he _does_ do that sometimes, you know, like when we were at Chloe’s watching that movie and he took my chair—I mean, the only chair that’s high enough for me to—“

            “Clark, you _left_.” Pause. “You left your parents, you left your friends, you left _me_ when I thought we were becoming _more_ than friends, you left your _home_. And we didn’t know where you were or if you were coming back.”

            “Well you didn’t waste any time replacing me!”

            “Clark! David was not supposed to _replace_ you, he was just the new guy in town and me and Chloe and Pete really like him and like spending time with him!”

            “Yeah, it’s obvious how much you like spending time with him, because he never _shuts up_ about the time you guys did _this_ or the time you guys went _there_ and how much fun it was, and oh, that must have happened while you were _gone_ , Clark—“

            “Clark! What did you expect us to do? Did you expect all of us to never smile again, to never have _any_ fun or good times at all? Did you expect that we would just be sitting around being miserable, _waiting_ for you to come back? Whenever that _might_ be?”

            “No, Lana, I would never expect anyone to wait for _me_. Especially not you. It seems like _I’m_ the only idiot who sits around waiting for people.”

            “Clark—wait a minute—Clark!”

 

            “Hey, Clark. Geez, you look beat.”

            “I just had an argument with Lana.”

            “Whoa! Stop the presses. This is going to require, like, 26-point font.”

            “Come on, Chloe, it wasn’t _that_ big of a deal...”

            “Please, let _me_ be the judge of that. I’ll get your side now and Lana’s when she comes home tonight.”

            “It’s not—it’s not really that important.”

            “Oh, come on, Clark, at least tell me what it was about.”

            “I don’t even _know_ what it was about... I was supposed to help her decorate for David’s party.”

            “And, let me guess, _something_ came up and you didn’t show.”

            “Well, yeah—“

            “Well, you’re right, Clark, I don’t know why she’d be mad at _that_ , you do it all the time.”

            “Chloe—I just forgot, because I had a fight with my dad this morning—“

            “Clark Kent: Two arguments in one day. Normal adolescent angst... or something _far more sinister_?”

            “Just—give it a rest, Chloe.”

            “Fine. I’m just trying to cheer you up.”

            “Well—thanks.”

            Pause. “Is this—okay, it’s none of my business, but—is this about David?”

            “No! J---s C----t! It could have been—for _anything_! I just got distracted, and I forgot.”

            “Okay, okay, calm down there, Clark. No need to go all Freakazoid on me.”

            “It’s just—I mean, I don’t _not_ like David.”

            “Well _that’s_ a ringing endorsement.”

            “I’m not going to be his best friend in the world, but he’s alright. It’s just that when Lana gets to talking about him, she acts like he’s some kind of saint who can do no wrong. She gets all defensive if I say anything bad about him at all.”

            “What don’t you like about David?”

            “Oh my G-d, not you too, Chloe. Maybe he _is_ a meteor mutant, and his power is hypnotizing people to think he’s God’s gift to women.”

            “And as we _all_ know, Clark Kent is immune to the effects of meteor mutants, so he’s the only one to see things for how they really are.” Pause. “Clark, wait a minute! Stop!”

            “What?”

            “Look, I’m sorry. It’s just—it’s been kind of weird for all of us, this summer, since you came back.”

            “Well I’m so _sorry_ I only complicate your lives.”

            “Clark! That’s not what I meant. We _want_ you to complicate our lives. I mean, we’re _glad_ you’re back. But—you’ve just been so _moody_ lately.”

            “Moody?”

            “Come on, Clark. First you’re on the farm for like a month before you even contact any of us, then you’re practically an automaton for _weeks_ , and even when you started to, you know, _express emotion_ again—well, you haven’t exactly been the Clark Kent we _know_.”

            “You mean, I haven’t been the Clark Kent all of you _want_ me to be, the one you’re _used_ to.”

            “No, that’s _not_ what I mean, Clark. It’s just... Clark, we really missed you, and we were worried about you. And now you’re back and you’re—okay, except... you don’t seem to enjoy doing the things you liked just a few months ago, you get mad about things you didn’t used to mind—“

            “Maybe I _always_ minded, but I just didn’t show it before.”

            “Well... Clark... If something, you know, _happened_ to you in Metropolis or wherever... you know, if you want to talk about it—“

            “I don’t.”

            “Because, you know, they say it _helps_ to talk about it—“

            “Chloe. I’m glad you want to help, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

            Pause. “Clark, I—“

            “What?”

            “I saw you in Metropolis.”

            Pause. “What?”

            “I was visiting my cousin and some friends of hers snuck me into this club and you were there and—“

            “I don’t believe this!”

            “You were knocking back shots, making out with at _least_ three different girls, flashing hundred-dollar bills—are you gonna tell me that _wasn’t_ you I saw?”

            Pause. “I assume you haven’t told anyone about that.”

            “No, Clark, I didn’t. I didn’t want to freak them out. I felt really awful, not telling your parents that I’d seen you, but—“

            “Well thanks for keeping it to yourself, Chloe.”

            “It’s just—I asked the bartender about you, and he said—“

            “Wait a minute. You were _investigating_ me?”

            “Clark! Of _course_ I wanted to know what was going on! The bartender said your name was _Cal_ and that you were in there all the time, always with money, always with... girls—Clark, if you got into some kind of trouble, you know you could turn to us, right?”

            “Turn to _you_? Turn to you if I wanted my story to be on the front page of the _Daily Planet_ maybe.”

            “Clark, that’s not fair!”

            “No? I read some of your ‘columns’ this summer. How’d you score the _Planet_ , anyway?”

            “My, um, internship last summer... They just wanted a... youthful voice, and—“

            “And you supplied them with, ‘Trials of Youth in a Small Town’?”

            “Clark, I—“

            “’Even a teenager with a seemingly idyllic life—close-knit parents, stable family farm, sterling reputation in the community—can harbor demons that one day cause him to snap and vanish from his hometown, unable to deal with the overwhelming pressures and forces assaulting the modern teenage psyche.’”

            “You—you _memorized_ it? Clark, you never said anything—“

            “Well I guess it was just one of those things I _minded_ but didn’t want to mention.”

            “Clark—“

            “You turned me into—one of those people on _trashy talk shows_ , Chloe. You got Letters to the Editor about your ‘insightful commentary into the damaged teenage mind.’ Maybe if you did a whole _series_ on my ‘damaged mind’ they’d put you on staff permanently.”

            “Clark! That was _not_ supposed to be about—I didn’t say anything _specific_ , I was just trying to make a larger point about—“

            “I’m not _supporting evidence_ , Chloe. For your column in the _Daily Planet_ , for your Wall of Weird, for your theory about Lana Lang controlling the universe, _anything_.”

            “I don’t have a theory about—Clark, I just wanted my friend back! That’s all _any_ of us want!”

            “Well, I don’t think you can have him back, because the person you knew—is gone.”

 

            “Sure, Clark. Come on in. Make yourself at home.”

            “Lex, am I interrupting something?”

            “No, of course not, I don’t actually have a _job_ around here or anything.”

            “Sorry to bother you. I’ll go.”

            “Clark, come back here. Sit down. What’s wrong?”

            “No, I don’t want to distract you from your... plans for world domination. I’ll see you later.”

            “Clark! Come on. Bad day?”

            “Bad week. Bad month. Bad... summer.”

            “You miss Metropolis?”

            “What? No...”

            “I did, when I first came to Smallville. In a city that size you can be—anonymous. You can be whoever you want. You can be a different person for each day of week, for every part of town.”

            “And here you can only be the person you’ve been your whole life.”

           “Or the person everyone _thinks_ you’ve been your whole life.”

            “Do you think I’m suffering from ‘typical teenage angst,’ Lex?”

            “As if I’d _know_ ‘typical teenage angst.’ But no, Clark, I’d say there’s nothing _typical_ about you.”

            “I argued with my dad this morning, I made my mom cry, I yelled at Lana and Chloe, and Pete blew me off.”

            “All that today?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Like I said, nothing typical about you. Well, this may get you into further trouble, but I think a day like that deserves a drink.”

            “Vodka?”

            “Oooookay. I definitely have vodka.”

            “I hope you have a lot. I have a really high tolerance.” Pause. “Muscle mass, you know... and plus I just ate a really big meal.”

            “Uh-huh. Pass me that—“ Pause. “That was a great catch, Clark.”

            “Um... thanks.”

            “See, I expected that bottle of very expensive Scotch to end up in pieces all over the floor. Given that my hands were already full, and that you were clear on the other side of the room. But you caught it anyway.”

            “Um... I have good reflexes.”

            “Yes, I’ve noticed.” Pause. “Your... vodka.”

            “Thanks.”

            “Do you—Do you want another one?”

            “Yeah.”

            “You should brush your teeth before you leave, so your mom doesn’t smell it on your breath. Here.”

            “Thanks.”

            “I’m not getting you another one until I’ve at least finished my _first_.”

            “You don’t have to wait on me, Lex. I can get it myself.”

            “Well, go for it then, Clark.” Pause. “Speaking of bad days... My father called this morning.”

            “Yeah? Bad news?”

            “You could say that. He’s dismantling one of my private labs outside Metropolis, for no reason other than it’s _mine_ , and he’s luring LexCorp employees away with bonus packages that are frankly ridiculously extravagant, thus leaving me with only the incompetents and the amateurs to run my company.”

            “That s—ks, Lex. You want some more?”

            “No, I have more work to do today. But give me the bottle.”

            “Okay. Why?”

            “Because you’ve had five shots in the last ten minutes. I can’t decide if I should have you stand on the carpet, where you won’t hit your head so hard when you pass out, or the flagstone, which will be easier to clean your vomit off of.”

            “You’re such a considerate host, Lex.”

            “My father also said something else, which will be of particular interest to you, I’m sure. He said he’s renewing his efforts to crack the secret of the Kawatche caves.”

            “ _What_? Lex, you can’t let him—I mean, those caves have to be _preserved_ , and he’ll be down there doing who knows _what_ kind of damage--”

            “Trust me, Clark, I am well aware of what kind of damage my father can do when he sets his mind to something. And while I am doing everything I can to convince the State Historical Preservation Committee that LuthorCorp is _not_ acting in the caves’ best interests, ‘everything I can’ is not actually very much at the moment.”

            “But Lex, you’ve seen the paintings, you know that we have—“

            “Yes, Clark, I’ve seen the paintings, and more importantly I’ve seen _you_ see the paintings.”

            “Um... what?”

            “Why are they so fascinating to you, Clark? It’s not as if you have a deep and abiding interest in Native American history.”

            “Well, they’re—I mean, it’s a mystery right in our backyards, isn’t it? An ancient mystery, like-like the Pyramids or something. I just—feel really connected to them. Um, because of Kyla.”

            “You feel ‘really connected’ to a group of indecipherable ancient cave paintings because a girl you liked for about a week—a girl who’s _dead_ now—also was interested in them?”

            “Well—why do _you_ like them so much? _You_ don’t exactly have a ‘deep and abiding interest in Native American history’ either.”

            “You know _exactly_ why I’m interested in those caves, Clark.”

            “Oh—right, the ‘alien graffiti’ theory?”

            “You don’t have to sound so _derisive_ , Clark. This is _Smallville_ after all, home to invisible teenagers, mind-reading boys, and mysterious events of every description.”

            “Many of which are due to the effects of the meteor rocks, right? Or, according to some people, experimental chemicals from the fertilizer plant.”

            “Your point?”

            “My point is just that—people used to think stuff like magnets and gunpowder were magic, because they didn’t understand how they _worked_. Now it’s just science. Someday we’ll understand how the meteor rocks affect people, and then all that stuff won’t be mysterious at all. It won’t be—some mystical thing prophesized by space aliens five hundred years ago. It’ll just be—a new kind of radiation or something. And some cool cave paintings.” Pause. “Lex?”

            “That was an incredibly intelligent argument, Clark.”

            “Um...”

            “Especially for someone with five shots of vodka in them.”

            “Um...”

            “Leading me to ask, are your ‘good reflexes’ and abnormally high tolerance for alcohol, not to mention your ability to sneak past guards and surveillance equipment to get into caves that are just ‘really cool,’ the strength to pull two grown men straight up from a falling walkway, and your invulnerability to an impact from a Porsche doing sixty miles per hour _just_ because of the effects of the meteor rocks?”

            “Uh... Lex, I have to get home now, I’ve been gone longer than...”

            “Very subtle, Clark. Maybe you should have held out for the power of the Undetectable Segue instead.”

            “Lex, I don’t have any—powers or anything, I’m just—“

            “You’re just Clark Kent.”

            “Well, yeah.”

            “The same way you’ve been your whole life. The same way _everyone_ thinks you’ve been your whole life.”

            “I have to go now, Lex. Thanks for the drinks.”

           

            “Hey, Clark, wait up a minute.”

            “Oh. Um, hey, David. Look, I’m kind of in a hurry to get home, so—“

            “Oh, no problem, man. I just, uh—I just had a long talk with Lana and—“

            “Oh.”

            “Yeah, she said something about you guys having a fight earlier today or something.”

            “It wasn’t really... a big deal.”

            “I dunno. She seemed pretty upset about it.”

            “Did she say what it was about?”

            “Oh, just something about you... and her... and me... and...”

            “Look, David, I really have to go now, so—“

            “Hey, that’s okay, Clark. I just wanted you to know that even though I’ve only known you a few weeks, I think you’re a real stand-up guy.”

            “Wha—you do?”

            “Yeah. I mean, you seem like a good guy and all. You know, Clark Kent, the guy in everyone’s corner, right?”

            “Um...”

            “I mean, I know you and Lana have a ‘history’ and all that. And I’m cool with that, I mean, I’m the new guy in town after all.”

            “I don’t—“

            “Lana’s just a really special person, though, you know?”

            “Well, yeah, I—“

            “I just feel like she’s been—disappointed a lot in her life, you know? Lots of people want to be _with_ her, but most of them don’t want to be _there_ for her, if you know what I mean.”

            “David, I—“

            “It’s okay, Clark, I’m not trying to _accuse_ you of anything. I’m just saying, I think Lana needs someone in her life who’s always there—not just _sometimes_ , but _always_ , and just for _her_ , not for everyone else.”

            Pause. “And... you think that someone is _you_?”

            “Look, Clark, I don’t know the whole story, I don’t know all the baggage, I don’t know anything about all the weird stuff they say you pull sometimes, the random appearing and disappearing, the crazy excuses, that kind of thing. I mean, I don’t want to judge you before I even know you—“

            “Well that’s very generous of you, David.”

            “Look, man, I’m just trying to fit in, you know? New town, new school, just hoping to find some friends before school starts. And I feel _so lucky_ to have met Lana and Chloe and Pete. I mean, they really took me in without making me feel awkward or out of place or—like I was ‘the new kid,’ you know?”

            “No, actually I don’t know, David, I’ve never been ‘the new kid’ anywhere. I’ve just always been here in Smallville, just Clark Kent, the boy next door. That’s it.”

            “Well, um, except for that little, uh, ‘summer vacation’ in Metropolis—“

            “Yeah, except for that. But I wasn’t exactly going to roller coaster parks and taking horseback rides and spraying whipped cream all over Principal Reynolds’s car in the middle of the night, like you good, fun-loving country folk were. I was hanging out at night clubs, I was drinking, I was driving very fast, expensive cars with very fast, expensive women in the seat beside me, plus a h—l of a lot of other activities that would freak the s—t out of anyone around here who _thinks_ they know Clark Kent and what Clark Kent _does_ and what Clark Kent _doesn’t_ do—“

            “Whoa, hang on, there, Clark, I didn’t mean to—Hey, are you okay?”

            “I have to go--”

            “You look like you’re—in pain, or something—“

            “No, I’m—Let me go!”

            “Hey, my car’s right around the corner, let me take you to the hospital—“

            “NO! I have to go—“

            “Clark! Clark?”

 

            “What the h—l do you _want_?!”

            “The time has come, my son, for the next phase of your journey towards your destiny.”

            “Oh—f—k my destiny! I don’t _want_ to conquer the Earth, I don’t even want to be around _people_ anymore! All I do is f—k them up, or stand there like an idiot while _they_ try to f—k _me_ up!”

            “You cannot escape your destiny, my son. You shall preserve the legacy of our race, and the peoples of the Earth shall bow before you.”

            “What the h—l—‘preserve the legacy of our race’? What does _that_ mean?”

            “The time will come when your duties will be made clear. Until then, know only that events have already been set in motion which will trace your path.”

            “Events already set in motion—what have you done? And-and—how the _f—k_ have you _done_ it?”

            “That is unimportant, my son. Through you, our race will become numerous and mighty once again, and we shall be as a pantheon of gods to—“

            “Shut up! SHUT UP! Just SHUT THE F—K UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE!”

            _Crash!_

 

_“I’m sure the Johnsons have noticed a few unusual occurrences around here over the years—they’ve never given us any problems about it, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful...”_

_“Actually, they’re my sisters-in-law...“_

_“...it means you’re about to develop some freaky new power—sprout feathers or a tail or something...”_

_“You left your parents, you left your friends, you left me when I thought we were becoming more than friends, you left your home. And we didn’t know where you were or if you were coming back...”_

_“...harbor demons that one day cause him to snap and vanish from his hometown, unable to deal with the overwhelming pressures and forces assaulting the modern teenage psyche...”_

_“Leading me to ask, are your ‘good reflexes’ and abnormally high tolerance for alcohol... just because of the effects of the meteor rocks?”_

_“I don’t know anything about all the weird stuff they say you pull sometimes, the random appearing and disappearing, the crazy excuses, that kind of thing...“_

_“You cannot escape your destiny, my son. You shall preserve the legacy of our race, and the peoples of the Earth shall bow before you...”_

_“You didn’t think this thing through. You had no idea what was gonna happen, and now... Now your mother is lying in a hospital bed.”_

_“...you will hurt the ones you love most...”_

_“The composition was unique. There’s nothing like it on Earth, with one exception. The meteor rocks found here in Smallville...”_

_“After all the times you've been less than honest with us, can you really blame us for having some doubts?”_

_“Our whole life you were the one person I could tell anything to, and I always did, all my secrets. But you? Everything you ever told me was a lie!”_

_“It’s built on lies and deceit. Any relationship with that foundation is destined to fail. Lucky we don’t have that problem.”_

_“Clark Kent starts a discussion about telling the truth, no less, and when it’s his turn to open up, everything is suddenly a deep, dark secret.”_

_“On this third planet from this star Sol, you will be a god among men. They are a flawed race. Rule them with strength... Rule them with strength... Rule them with strength...”_

 

            “Clark! Clark, are you alright?”

            Cough. Choke. Spit up water. “Alice?”

            “Oh, thank G-d. Clark, what happened? I was just—walking by when I saw your shoes and socks on the bridge, and you were just—lying there at the bottom of the pond—“

            “I, um—I decided to go for a swim, and uh—“

            “In your... jeans and t-shirt?”

            “Well it was kind of ::cough:: on impulse, and um...”

            “Hear, lie back down. G-d, did you hit your head or something? There were a lot of rocks at the bottom of the pond...”

            “Yeah, I guess I must have...”

            “We should get you to the hospital.”

            “No! Um, I mean I just want to go home... I just want to go home... I’ll be okay, Alice. Really.”

            “Okay, well... Here, let me help you up. I don’t have a car or anything... I don’t want to leave you alone while I go get one...”

            “No, I can—I can walk...”

            “Here, I’ve got you. Maybe you should rest for a while first? I could—run to a phone or something, call your parents to come out here...”

            “No, don’t leave, I just...”

            “Okay, I won’t leave, Clark.”

            “G-d, I’ve never been so cold...”

            “Here, if you can scoot over a little bit you’ll be in the sun, maybe that will warm you up.”

            “Yeah, that’s... better.”

            “I would have thought you... _fell_ off the bridge, except that your shoes and socks were up there, and your wallet and stuff.”

            “Swimming. Just a quick dip. Didn’t realize how shallow the pond was this time of year.”

            “Maybe you better rest a while longer.”

            “No, I can walk.”

            “I’ve got you. It’s a long way back to your farm, though.”

            “I’m sorry, Alice...”

            “Sorry? For what?”

            “Um, for... you having to half-carry a dripping wet guy all the way home.”

            “Are you kidding? That pretty much _describes_ what I was planning to do this afternoon anyway!”

            “Really?”

            “Yeah. And I’m really glad it was _you_ and not, like, that David kid or something.”

            “Oh?”

            “I just ducked out of his party Lana’s throwing at the Talon? Kinda thought I’d see you there, but—I think you had the _smart_ idea.”

            “You don’t like David?”

            “Oh—I’m sorry... He’s a friend, isn’t he?”

            “No, it’s okay. I mean—my G-d, you just saved my _life_ , you can say anything you _want_.”

            “Well, when you put it that way...”

            “Thanks, by the way.”

            “For saving your life? No problem. Do it all the time. Pretty routine case this time. Except for those freaky green rocks in the pond. They give me the chills.”

            “Yeah, me too. I just, um... I didn’t see them before I dove in. I was just, um, really hot...”

            “It’s a scorcher, alright.”

            “So—what were you doing out here, anyway? It’s pretty deserted.”

            “Just, um, taking a walk, getting the lay of the land, that sort of thing. You wanna wait here for a second while I get your stuff from the bridge?”

            “N-no, I’ll come back for it. It’s Smallville, no one’s going to steal it. If I wait long enough someone’ll probably bring it by the house themselves.”

            “Jaded big city kid, here. I’ve lost sight of your wallet for about thirty seconds and I’m already predicting it’s gone.”

            “It’s fine. You’ll have to go all the way around now—“

            “Oh, um, actually there’s this shortcut through the bushes I found the other day...”

            “Really?”

            “Yeah, it’s just—Well, here, sit down in the sun for a minute, and I promise I’ll be right back...”

            “Hey, that _was_ fast. You gotta show me that shortcut sometime.”

            “Here you go. Shoes at least will probably make the trip easier. Here, let me—“

            “I can—Oh.”

            “Those laces get old and rotten pretty quick, don’t they? Happens to me all the time. There you go. That should keep your feet off the rocks and stuff, anyway.”

            “Thanks.”

            “You feel okay to get up again? Or we can sit here for a while.”

            “I really want to get home.”

            “Yeah, I know the feeling. Although it can be a little—tense sometimes.”

            “Yeah. I had a bad day today.”

            “No kidding. Almost drowning will take the shine off _any_ day.”

            “No, I mean... before that. I think I had an argument with, or at least freaked out, _everyone_ I know.”

            “Yeah... I heard David asking Chloe if you were on drugs.”

            “ _What_? That little—What did she say?”

            “She said it would explain a lot. And Lana agreed. So I figured, you know, you might’ve had a bad day.”

            “I even argued with Lex. He’s supposed to be my best friend.”

            “Well—my grandma says that if you don’t argue with someone, you never really know what they’re thinking. And if you don’t really know what they’re thinking, how can you be friends?”

            “Yeah... except when _I_ argue with people I just seem to _hurt_ them, instead of... saying what I mean.”

            “Well, that happens to everyone, Clark, you know? Sometimes you say what you’re really thinking at that _instant_ , instead of how you really feel overall.”

            “That pretty much describes my whole day. I yelled at my parents—my... biological father, too...”

            “Oh, does he live around here?”

            “He... called. On the phone. He, um, he’s always talking about ‘my destiny.’”

            “That’s kinda weird.”

            “Um, I mean, he wants me to... join the family business.”

            “Geez, he sounds like Lex’s dad.”

            “I think there are some definite parallels. Oh, but, um, hey... I haven’t told anyone else he, um, contacted me, so...”

            “Hey, your secret’s safe with me.”

            “Thanks... you’re adopted, aren’t you, Alice?”

            “Yup.”

            “Have you ever... wondered about your biological parents?”

            “To be honest—no. I mean, _literally_ , have I ever wondered, yeah, once or twice, but never seriously. My mom and my grandma are pretty good at taking up space in my life. Sometimes too _much_ space. But it sounds like you were better off, being raised by your mom and dad instead of... someone like Lex’s dad.”

            “Yeah. Yeah, that’s true... Except sometimes I think my biological father would have been able to... explain things to me better. Like, why something was happening, if it was _normal_ for... the family.”

            “Yeah... I guess I _have_ wondered something like that, Clark. I guess I don’t think of myself as having ‘biological parents,’ which is pretty silly, but—when I was little my mom always told me I just fell out of the sky.”

            “Really?”

            “Yeah. That worked until about... third grade, so... Hey, you feel kind of warm, you want to stop for a minute?”

            “No, that’s normal for me.”

            “Hey, me too. I used to freak the school nurses out because I run about two degrees over normal.”

            “So do I. I didn’t play it right, though—I got myself sent home from kindergarten with a fever three days in a row, and then my parents gave the school a note saying that’s my _normal_ temperature, so it doesn’t count. Every school year they have to write that note over. It’s really embarrassing to hand it in now.”

            “Ha. My mom had to do that, too.”

            Pause. “Um, Alice...”

            “Yeah?”

            “I don’t want to be all... secretive or anything, but... Could you not... tell anyone about this? Lana and Chloe and Lex and... all...”

            “Sure, no problem. I mean, aside from the whole mouth-to-mouth, soaking wet clothing, and leaning on for like four miles, it’s not really that exciting of a story.”

            Laugh. Cough. Choke. “Sorry. Thanks.”

            “Nothing to it. I’m good at keeping secrets. Hey, is that your dad?”

            “Good at—Yeah, this is the west pasture.”

            “Oh. Didn’t know I was dealing with the Squire of Kent and his many estates here.”

            “It’s actually a pretty _small_ farm...”

            “Clark! Clark, what happened to you? We expected you back hours ago!”

            “I, um—I fell in a pond and... hit my head.”

            “Hit your head?”

            “I’m sorry, Mr. Kent, I didn’t have a phone or a car or anything—“

            “That’s okay, um—“

            “This is Alice, Dad. She saved my life.”

            “Saved your—Well, I’m very grateful to you, Alice, very grateful. Um—“

            “Do you need—help getting him to the house? Because I could—“

            “Um, no, thank you, Alice, I really appreciate your help so far, but I’ll just put him in the truck here and—“

            “Okay. Let me know how you are, Clark.”

            “I will. Thanks a lot, Alice.”

            “Anytime."


End file.
